The House Where He Lives
by alpacas4ever
Summary: What if Violet had never moved into the murder house? What if she met Tate anyway? Following from the vents of their meeting onward. AU. Violate.
1. Chapter 1

I'm running as fast as I can down the middle of a long asphalt road. The pounding of my pursuer's feet is audible just behind me. I am fully aware of what will happen should I slow down.

I've seen these people in action.

My breath comes in ragged breaths as I pull forward, leaning into each stroke of my legs. The aching burn that began in my lungs is spreading across my body, down into my thighs and feet, making it hard to walk, let alone run. But I have to.

As trees and houses speed by, I am suddenly struck by the thought that this could be the end. I could die here. The fabric of my mortal life could simply slip from between my fingers, leaving me alone in the great unknowing of death. Floating in a plane of which I have no knowledge, and in which I will have no control.

I suddenly understand how precious life is. How much I want that life to continue. The icy hand of death will catch me one day, but not now. Not while I can fight.

Suddenly, the wind blasting across my face feels sharper, more real. Every breath that I draw in is precious, now that I am aware of the reality that each breath could be my last. All the colors around me are suddenly more potent, swirling around me with a beauty almost painful. I feel more alive, happier, and more free than I have ever felt before.

I hear my pursuers egging each other on, shouting insults and abuse in my direction. Telling me to give up.

_NO._ The thought surges through my head, powering my legs that extra step further. _I will not give up. Life is too valuable for that._

One has not lived, untill they have run from a pack of angry cheerleaders.

Well.

I say _angry_...

More like thirsting for blood.

It seems the Ladies in Blue don't take kindly to having their hair dyed orange. I mean, technically it wasn't even_ me _that dyed it.I simply switched the shampoo bottles.

"Get back here freak!" One of the girls shouts, brandishing a high heel at me.

Oh my _god_ they have got to get some new heckles.

Suddenly I veer off the road, throwing myself into a bush just beside the curb. I feel an infinite amount of small cuts bite into my skin, and my body jars as I realize that throwing myself onto the ground is not the best idea I have ever had.

Still, the jerk squad runs on by, spewing profanity and wielding shoes and purses, and I remain in the bush, catching my breath and giggling.

Yes, I know, giggling and near death experiences don't usually go together, but I'm a weird person.

So weird, in fact, that I will actively seek out ways to make people I don't like angry, purely for the rush that I get when they try to get back at me.

I'm a _really weird_ person.

I pull out a cigarette from the old mint box I keep in my coat pocket, and take a long pull in, sucking my cheeks in until I look like a fish. I hold my breath for as long as I can, until it burns in my lungs, before slowly releasing it, letting the smoke billow out, and imagining, for a time, what it would be like to be a dragon.

I giggle again.

Yeah. Right. The fierce dragon …...Violet.

Well. At least it's not Sunshine.

She's not supposed to be here.

I mean, it's not like I'm gonna _move_ her, but she's still not supposed be here.

There's something... odd, about her. I mean besides the fact that she just jumped into a bush in front of my house. Pursued by orange haired teenagers.

I maneuver myself around in the tree, slipping down a branch as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb her.

She's still lying in the bush. Her hair is fanned out behind her head, and her slightly outdated dress is rumpled and torn from her dive into shrubbery.

She's _laughing_.

Full on giggling. A high melodious sound that reminds of the songbirds that used to flit around outside my window.

I like birds.

And I like this strange girl, in her sneakers and floral dresses.

I am quiet for a moment before, suddenly, it hits me, almost knocking me out of my perch. I know what's wrong. I know why she seemed so strange to me.

This whole time, a good 15 minutes that I've been watching her, I haven't thought about killing her.

I obviously_ like_ her, so why don't I want her dead?

In fact, the thought of her death is….. _Repulsive_.

I search inside of me, trying to find the bloodthirsty monster that is constantly pressing on my mind. I find it, but am surprised when I do.

It's almost..._ happy._

I slip again on my branch.

I study her features carefully, trying to focus on how The Demon feels.

The emotions coming from it are bewildering. It's the first time I have ever felt peaceful in my life.

I suddenly get the image of a huge cat lying in front of a window, basking in the sunlight, and purring.

My _demon_ is _purring_.

I scoot as far as I can towards the end of my branch, craning to get a better look at the girl who's managed to tame I beast I've been struggling with my whole life.

It's far too late to scoot back when I hear the branch snap.

She looks up, startled, just in time to see me, and a portion of the tree, plummet to ground, right into the bush next to her.

A good portion of the bush is crushed (my mom'll kill me for that later), but I'm distracted by the face staring down at me.

She is a goddess. She is staring at me curiously, cigarette dangling out of a mouth that is almost hanging open in surprise. The sun is shining just behind her head, giving her an ethereal crown. Dark brown eyes are furrowed, beneath a forehead barely beaded with sweat, and behind them I can almost feel her thoughts.

_Where did he come from?_

_Who is he?_

_How long has he been up there?_

I am so lost in admiring her that I jump a little when she finally speaks. What she says surprises me.

"If you're trying to kill yourself, that's the wrong way to do it."

**BUM-BUM-BUUUUUUMMM! I don't know why I did that. Not a very dramatic chapter. NO worries though….. the drama will come….. **

**Anywhoodle, hope you enjoyed! I don't know whether I'm gonna make Tate be ghost yet. He might just be nuts. Oh well. This is an AU. I DO WHAT I WANT. **

**Please write me a comment on how I can improve (or just on how fabulous I am) and favorite (if you feel I am deserving). THANKS! ^.^**

**-ACC**


	2. Chapter 2

A boy has just fallen from the sky.

I know I should probably react somehow. I mean, he did just fall out of a tree, and onto the ground next to me. The branch could have easily hurt me, or him. I suddenly realize that this house probably belongs to him. It's so wrecked, windows smashed in and wood falling off, that I hadn't even thought that I might be diving into someone else's shrubbery.

I hadn't seen anyone. There wasn't a car in the drive way.

_Or maybe, Violet, his parents had just gone out for a while. _

I blush a little as I realize how weird I must seem. How many questions he must have about me. I glance up to see how far he'd fallen and am surprised to see the remnants of the branch on a tree not far from me, splintered and sticking out of its trunk.

That's odd. For the branch to shatter like that, he must have been almost perfectly above me when-

Wait.

Has he been _watching_ me?

Who is he?

How long was he up there?

I try to bring myself to be angry. After all, a perfect stranger had just been watching me smoke for at least 15 minutes. But… I can't.

He just looks so innocent… Blond hair, littered with leaves, fanned out beneath a pale face. His arms are thrown about his body half hazardly, and his back seems to be resting uncomfortably on a huge chunk of branch, but nothing seems to be broken.

At first I wonder at the heavy striped sweater he's wearing. It's almost 90 degrees and sunny on a California afternoon. A little too warm for a wool fleecy.

But the sleeve is rumpled slightly, and pulls back to expose a wrist, covered in scars.

_Oh._

He's like me.

My own wrist tingles and my heart warms.

_Maybe not so innocent after all._

I follow the line of his arm, up his shoulders, past his neck and back to his face. His lips are parted slightly and his dark brown eyes are boring into mine. In them I can clearly see surprise, and shame, and mischief, and… something else.

… Awe?

But that makes no sense. My eyebrows furrow a bit as I look closely at him.

Why would anyone be _awed_ by me?

I could understand being awed by him. Lying there in front of me, with leaves in his hair and slits on his wrists, he looks like some sort of broken angel. A sad little bird, fallen from the sky.

Literally.

I realize that I haven't actually _said_ anything to him since he fell at me. I am still thinking of his wrists when I open my mouth.

"If you're trying to kill yourself, that's the wrong way to do it."

Somehow, the line suits her.

It's abrupt and quick, and completely unexpected. Like jumping into a bush to escape a bunch of pissy teens.

We still haven't broken eye contact, and I notice that her eyebrows twitch upwards, surprised at her own actions.

I can't help it. I laugh.

The laughing hurts a little and I realize that I probably bruised my ribs a bit. I am taken by surprise by the quick little jolt of pain and choke on a breath, causing me to cough as I slowly pull myself into a sitting position.

She's laughing to, and she laughs harder when I sit up, wincing a little.

It's not a mocking laugh. She's not laughing at me. She's laughing because she finds the situation _funny_.

I stare at her for a while, enjoying the feel of her eyes on mine, basking in it, before realizing I should respond.

"I hardly think that falling from a tree merits a suicide attempt."

She laughs again, and I warm up a little inside. The demon lets loose a rumbling purr.

I should make her laugh more often.

"I wasn't referring to that." She says, and gestures towards my wrist with her cigarette, eyebrows quirking up. "I saw."

Oh no.

My heart plummets.

No no no no no no.

She can't be doing this.

She can't be judging me.

She's doing what they all do.

The demon is waking up. I can feel it.

No no no no no n-

"Wait." She says, and I realize that I am making the motions to get up and leave. My face is burning and all I want to do is run, but I wait. Because she said to. "I didn't mean it….. Like that."

I pause, and watch in wonder as she slowly raises her arm up, and pulls down the sleeve of her light sweater, and exposes her wrist.

Scars crisscross over pale skin, some old, some just barely scabbed over. There are a couple that look like they were made that morning.

I sit back down, mesmerized.

I barely notice when my lips start moving.

"My name's Tate."

She smiles, lowering her wrist, nods at me.

It's like basking in sunshine.

"I'm Violet."

And there it is. Now there is a name to match the face, and the smile, and the laugh.

She looks past me, over her shoulder, and gestures at the house. "You live in the creep shack?"

I laugh at this, noting the ache has gone out of my lungs. I don't think I've laughed this much in years. "No, but I used to. There was some shit with my dad and suddenly my mother can't bear to live there anymore. She put it up for sale." I nod toward the For Sale sign on the opposite side of the yard.

She nods again. "Yeah… didn't see that earlier." She takes a drag from her cigarette and breaths out a thick fog of smoke.

I snort at her casual reference to the flight from the gingers. "You did seem a little preoccupied."

She laughs ruefully. "…..You saw that huh?"

I grin. I could be happy if the only sound I ever heard was that laugh. "Yup." I say, popping the p up.

"Oh god…." She says, placing her head in her hands, but it's easy to tell that under her fingers, she's smiling.

We talk for over an hour, and the sun's hanging low in the sky when Violet finally gets up.

"Well… I should probably be getting back to my man-whore of a father…..He and my mom are probably worried." She stretches a little, probably stiff from sitting on a curb for so long.

I look up at her, trying not to show my anger at the mention of her father. Any man who would throw away a family like that….. Anyway.

"Yeah…." I say, "The cocksucker awaits. Not that she would care if I didn't show up."

She just kind of stares at me. "Yup…"

I stare right back. "Yup…"

"….yup."

It's really kind of awkward for a moment before she just up and grins, spinning away from me quickly and marching off down the road.

I sigh, and watch Violet go, until she is out of sight.

Turning around, I catch something, out of the corner of my eye. A flash of red.

I stoop down into the bush and smile a little. There, caught in a branch, is her hat.

I stand up, holding it tightly, and feel something let loose in my heart.

I will see her again.

The girl who I don't want to die.

**OK, before we continue with the whole Author's note thing, I just want to point out that self-harm is NOT COOL and is not the basis on which to start a friendship. That being said there are exceptions. **

**Anyway, much thanks to Niglia and Professor Langdon (cool username btw) for reviewing. Please tell me if you like where the story is going. I didn't intend for this chapter to be so fluffy, but no worries, THE ANGST IS COMING. Also, I'm probably gonna make Tate alive. **

**Please follow and review if you enjoyed and I hope to see you soon! **

**-ACC ^.^**


	3. Chapter 3

Tate's POV

My stomach is filled with an uneasy fluttering, as I gaze upon the door of her house. It's taken me a full day to psych myself up to this.

Behind this point, I have no idea what will happen.

Our first meeting was by chance. A strange set of circumstances, leading up to a meeting of familiar souls.

This will be different.

This marks the first time in history that I, Tate Langdon, will purposefully seek someone out in the hopes that we may actually interact with each other in a positive manner. Yay for progress.

The house is a small, gray little thing, tucked up in the corner of outer suburbia. A cheerful little wooden butterfly decorates the doorbell, placing the white button where the head would be. A small smile has been painted onto the plastic. Well-kept for plants rustle in a hot breeze, turning blossoms to the sky…. I can see why she hates it here.

I push the butterfly.

A harsh buzz rings throughout the house.

I almost turn and run.

_God, this is pathetic._

_What if she thinks _I'm_ pathetic?_

After all, I did spend close to five hours finding her address. And spent two biking here.

Oh God.

She's the one person in the world who I can honestly say doesn't repulse me, and I am terrified of her.

I'm feeling a little sick when I realize two things;

First, I am crushing her hat. I loosen my grip a little, and allow my thumb to stroke the soft red material soothingly.

Second, no one is answering the door.

I first I'm a little relieved, (no answer, no Violet, no awkward conversation, to "get out Tate") but then I get frustrated.

I spent seven hours getting here, I am not about to up and vanish without at least having someone answer the door. I push the button again, holding out the buzz for a good ten seconds before finally releasing it.

No answer.

I ring again.

And again.

And again.

Eventually I am veritably jamming the face of the butterfly into the wall, making it buzz to the rhythm of _Jingle Bells_.

Suddenly someone shouts from within the house, it's dim, and I barely hear it, but it's there.

"HOLY SHIT! I'M GOING TO THE BATHROOM! HOLD ON A SECOND!"

I grin.

She's here.

**Alrighty friends, I'm sorry, but this is gonna be the only update this weekend. I know it's also really short, but I needed to make sure you all know that I haven't fallen off of the earth. ;) I'm only gonna update this story on weekends, so I wanted to give you all this little taste of what's gonna happen next chapter. (Hint Hint…. Tate meets V's Dad and we explore "Fear of rejection")**

**Thank you to BsbLady, Dramamamapwnsall, and the three guests for reviewing! (I hope I did well with following your instructions)**

**Please, follow, favorite, and review if you liked it!**


	4. Chapter 4

Violet's POV:

My house is one gigantic lie. It sits under the sun, all flowery and unbecoming, and whispers gently at people who walk by, soothing them with un-truths and deceit.

Flowers sway, and wind chimes dangle.

_We're all okay. We can all function as a family again._

Gray paint peels slightly off of the walls, weathered, but still homely and comforting.

_This is no one's fault. We can get through this. _

The stupid little "Butter-Bell" rattles a little as the wind catches on a stray antennae.

_They still love each other. We can be a family._

There are so many lies, and it makes me want to tear the place down. My mother and father spend their time tiptoeing around all conflict, avoiding fights like the plague and rolling their eyes behind each other's backs.

We eat. Sleep. Talk. Pretend to heal because it's better than facing each other.

I'm the only one in this fucking Twilight Zone that sees through all the lies, and my parents are furious that I haven't fallen for it like they have.

It is the last place I would expect Tate Langdon to show up.

I haven't stopped thinking about him since yesterday. I mull over everything we talked about over and over again, like it's some delicious piece of candy that I just can't stop lick-lick-licking at to see what's at the center of it all.

My parents totally freaked when I got home that night. Completely flipped their shit. They kept asking me "Where have you been?!" and "Young lady you had me worried sick! How could you?!" but I never told them.

Tate is my secret. My safe little haven away from it all.

He's even been in my dreams. Soaring on broken wings above me and pushing me up, even as he falls.

Which is why I can't expect him to show up. I can't expect to ever see him again.

Because I like him.

And things like that don't last for me.

So when the doorbell rings, I ignore it, settling back into the folds of my couch and petulantly hoping that it's important so I can ignore it and mess with my parents some more.

When it rings again, I huff a little at the distraction, clutching my notebook firmly and scribbling away.

So I write poetry. Bite me.

And then it continues. Whoever's at that door is most certainly one of the more annoying people in the world. They have to be fucking _leaning_ on that thing and the constant buzz is driving me crazy.

Except- wait.

Is that_ Jingle Bells?!_

_Yeah! Yeah it fucking is! _

The bastard is ringing jingle bells into my _doorbell_!

Ohhhhhhhh yeah. He's gonna get it.

I shout the first excuse that comes to mind (something about being in the bathroom) and swing my legs off of the couch, notebook left open and abandoned. My feet pound on the floor boards as I march down the hallway, teenage surly-ness in full swing.

_He's still ringing the doorbell. _

By the time I get to the door I'm about ready to punch someone in the face. My hand collides with the doorknob almost violently and I fiddle with the lock as I half shout;

"Jesus Christ! Calm down for a second, I'm coming!"

There is silence for a second.

Thank God.

BUZZZZZ

"_HOLY SHIT!_"

I finally get the lock and it takes me almost half a second to realize I that I am shouting at someone I don't even know, and the next half not to care.

I'm so pissed that I throw all of my weight into swinging the door open, preparing to let loose a string of curse words that could summon Mother Teresa out of her grave, purely to scold me properly. "WOULD YOU FU-"

_Whack!_

Oh crap.

I forgot.

I stop shouting, and slowly peer around the edge of my door.

See, the one thing odd about my house (besides the whole, family falling into chaotic disarray thing) is that the door opens funny.

And by funny, I mean that it swings out, instead of in.

That "_Whack!_"?

That was the sound of me slamming all of my body weight (and a large portion of a door) into whoever was now knocked flat on his ass, lying on my walk and staring up at me through a thin veil of blonde curls.

With brown eyes. And a sweater. And blonde curls.

_Holy Shit._

Tate Langdon looks up at me and smirks.

"Ow."

**OMYGOSHIAMSOSORRY! I feel like total crapola for not being able to update sooner (yes this is the part where I make a lame excuse and plead for forgivness) but I was kinda grounded. Like, I wasn't allowed to leave the upstairs. So once again, I am sooooooo sorry. Forgive meeeeee?**

**Anyways! So this chapter, huh? You guys like how it's go'n? Believe it or not I actually am going somewhere with this, but I keep having these little plot bunnies bouncing in front of my face. I think that we're probably gonna have one more chapter of fluff (ish? You can't really have fluff in AHS, but I try) and then move onto the heavy drama. **

**My thanks to InfantThadeus (nice name btw), and TateLangdonsgun (I'm sorry ok?! I'm SORRY) for reviewing and I hope to see you soon!**

**-ACC**

**P.S - Violet has a dirty mouth, doesn't she?**


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